


Proposition's Promise

by Kuroya



Series: Warden's Promise [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, alistair does not give sex advice, in more ways than the one though, morrigan gives sex advice, or just harder than they appear, tent visits are harder for the dalish than it would appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3635337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroya/pseuds/Kuroya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The poor Warden has been trying to take his relationship with Zevran further for quite a few nights now without success.  Which means Morrigan has to endure his presence and give him advice again.  It's the only way to spare them all from Alistair.  Or in other words, this is what happens when the tent visit chastemance loop is triggered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposition's Promise

If it weren't for the fact that turning him away would have meant that she was abandoning him to Alistair's guidance, Morrigan would have long ago sent Riri scurrying from her tent.

To be fair, she knew t'was not the elf's fault for being so sheltered; the Dalish had deliberately kept him in the dark, as far as she could tell from what little he had spoken of it, and they had gone out of their way whenever possible to make him feel ashamed of such a thing. It angered her to think of it, and to be honest, if she had half an inkling of where the warrior's clan was now, she probably would have conveniently arranged for many of their things to suddenly catch fire or otherwise suffer, if only because she was now having to clean up their mess. Riri trusted her where so many would not, for one reason or another, and though she was loath to admit it, a small part of her thrilled in the fact that he did (perhaps it was a nod to the flame that she had nurtured for him in her chest before it had been snuffed out with the realization that the elf had no interest in her beyond that of friendship, which in itself was a rare show of trust from the emotionally-wounded Dalish, no matter how well he managed to conceal that part of himself). Still, the sight of his bright hair in the limited sight of her fire made her want to scream and throw the grimoire at his head, if only for the small satisfaction she would obtain from the act of frustration.

Instead, after a heavy sigh that left her scowling, she shifted a little to the left where she sat so that the Warden would have a place to sit beside her, his faithful mabari having remained on the other side of camp with Alistair, for which she was grateful; she did not think she would have been able to tolerate a clingy dog and a clingy elf at the same time. "You are worse than a squirrel," she muttered, pulling the black ribbon bookmark across the tome and then closing it. "At least the tree rat would have had the courage to hold his ground in front of a potential mate."

"I can't help it, Mor," Riri mumbled, head hanging, looking miserable - it really was astonishing how much Gray Wardens could resemble mabari, she observed with distaste. If she was not as fond of the Warden as she was, he would have long ago been tossed out again. As it was, he was already the only one in camp who could always recognize her without fail, though Zevran as well was picking up the trick. It was dangerous to allow him this close, yet she couldn't bring herself to hurt him. For once, she wanted to grasp the golden mirror in front of her and hold it to her chest.

"Obviously," she retorted, her tone a tad less frosty than it usually was. "If it were not natural, I doubt the chase would keep up." Neither of them were much of the touching types, otherwise she might have run her fingers through his hair to see if it would calm him down the same way his scratching against his mabari's ears would the mutt, although she could already see that her friend was loosening simply under her company. Many a lesser man had met his end for much the same crime, yet still the elf survived. It was a sign of her favor.

That and the fact that she was not going to even attempt to imagine the mess that would be left for her to sort out if Alistair attempted to teach the elf how to be intimate. She had met wolves with better finesse than the Templar had.

"I know he says he wants me, but I just... he's so much more than I am, Mor. I don't... He deserves far better than me." The elf fidgeted in that way he always did when alluding to his past, and the mage had to forcibly push back the urge to heave out another deep sigh through her nose. She had been there in Ostagar when he had screamed out the name, and to be honest, even Alistair seemed aware that their leader had some kind of unresolved baggage, though he at least showed the tact not to bring it up, something she ought to applaud him for. Maybe you could teach a dumb dog new tricks.

"He is an assassin, and while I approve of such a fine predator, the fact that he is entirely shameless and refuses to pick up on a hint is more than enough to make him undeserving of you," she grumbled with a roll of her golden eyes, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers against her bicep pointedly. "Be firm with him and don't falter. He chose you to flirt with, so make him have to work for it. You do not see mating pairs not having to prove themselves to their prospective partners."

The warrior took a deep breath and let it out, staring morosely into the fire for a moment before rubbing at his face with one hand, forcing back the shaggy white hair that he so often used to hide his amber eyes behind. "You're right, as per usual."

"Naturally."

"I'm a coward."

"Without a doubt."

"I need to try again if I'm ever going to please him."

"'Tis more information than I needed." Morrigan's tone was dry, and she waved her hand at him in a clear dismissal, the mage having to remind herself once again that if she had let Alistair deal with this, no doubt the elf would have managed to get himself in far deeper trouble. At least with her giving him direction, the two were keeping their foolish dance to the camp rather than the battlefield; she would be glad for the moment when either the Dalish gave up this notion that he needed to inform her of his intentions in his tent or managed to accomplish wrangling the assassin into his bedroll.

Riri smiled and rested a hand on hers, a gesture of fondness that they shared in that single moment of a lingering touch before it was gone, retreating backwards in that endless dance of maintaining personal space, she out of a dislike of people in general and he out of an unfamiliarity with intimacies with another. "Thank you," he murmured sincerely before he got up and left her to her solitude again.

Unfortunately, the results of their talk were immediately available as Riri attempted to bolster his courage by asking while the entire camp was still unpacking, thus leaving them within a close enough vicinity to watch and judge him if he attempted the coward's way out again. As chance would have it, Morrigan was close enough to overhear them, and she was familiar enough with the Dalish to picture his reactions almost immediately.

"Zevran? May I... talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, _mi querido_. You're always welcome here."

A scuffle of dirt followed by a deep breath. It always was amusing that Riri could charge darkspawn and the undead with no fear, but put him in close proximity with Zevran and intimacy and all that confidence seemed to fly away with the same speed Morrigan could with her wings. "I... would like you to come to my tent."

"Oh? I do recall hearing this offer before."

"Enough with the coy bit!" Riri snapped, and Morrigan could already see the flush forming on his cheeks in her mind's eye and shook her head. This wasn't going to end well. "Get in the tent!"

"All right, but I assure you, I am a master of torture." The mage wanted to groan at Zevran's words. Really? He was really going to say something like that to the elf who had been skittering away from him just about since this whole thing began? It was no wonder why the warrior kept scampering to her after attempts like these, what when the assassin was dropping words like that over the whole matter as though their Warden was a master of seduction. "If you want your answers, you'll have to beat them out of me. Creatively."

"Th-that's... not what I had in mind," Riri stuttered, flushing as he backed up slowly, leaving the Antivan confused before the Warden was scurrying away, offering some weak excuse about needing to ensure that the dwarves at the edge of camp were set up properly in case there was another attack of darkspawn during the night before he beat a hasty retreat that would have made his clan proud.

It was going to be another long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Mi querido - my darling / dear


End file.
